Holy Roman Empire - Chapter 325
Chapter 325: Chapter 12: The Duped Arms Dealer
The Northern government was in a predicament, and the Southern Government wasn’t doing much better. The newly-formed Southern Confederation Government was entirely a result of compromise and balance among the states.
As a makeshift gang assembled for the occasion, its executive power was naturally not to be relied upon. Most affairs had to be conducted in cooperation with the state governments for any action to take place.
Under dual leadership, various confusions inevitably arose.
After the victory at Cincinnati, the Confederates should have taken advantage of their momentum to concentrate their forces and take down the Northern government’s industrial center. Instead, the Southern Government launched attacks on all fronts.
They attacked neighboring regions such as Maryland, Pennsylvania, Indiana, Illinois, and Iowa, in succession.
The strategy of fighting on multiple fronts seemed powerful and achieved the goal of keeping the enemy beyond the nation’s gate, but it also lost the opportunity to quickly end the war.
This type of stalemate was most favored by the great powers, as arms dealers from around the world gathered in North America, eager to partake in the feast.
In a manor in Missouri, the host, John-Cassie, asked with a smile, “Fickel, how did the talk go?”
Fickel said dejectedly, “Don’t mention it, my friend. This deal can’t be done; the state government actually wants to purchase breech-loading rifles.
God, the mainstream weapon of the world now is the muzzle-loading rifle. Besides, what’s the difference between loading from the front or the back? Don’t they both just shoot?”
For the war, Fickel had acquired two hundred cannons and thirty thousand rifles, hoping to make a fortune. While he was able to sell the cannons at a high price, the rifles were not as fortunate.
In the age of war, practicality prevailed, and weapons were chosen purely on their effectiveness. Undoubtedly, the breech-loading rifles, that could be fired prone, were more competitive than muzzle-loaders.
The Southern Government, already at a disadvantage in manpower, which had improved from 1:2 in history to 2:3, still could not afford casualties, so the state governments sought to minimize soldier losses as much as possible.
John-Cassie shrugged and said, “Sorry, I can’t help you with this. If it were peacetime, convincing the state government to purchase a batch of weapons wouldn’t be hard, but now is wartime.
We must consider the military’s view; everything is about winning the war. The breech-loading rifles provided by the Austrians are indeed effective; I’ve even tried them myself.
Both the rate of fire and the accuracy have greatly improved. The only weakness is probably the limited range; but that’s not really a flaw.
On the battlefield, most soldiers can only achieve accuracy within two hundred meters; an eight hundred meter range is more than enough.”
Fickel complained, “Damn it, if you knew, why didn’t you tell me? You’ve made me waste my energy for nothing. Had I known earlier, I would have gone to the North, and I came here for your sake.”
John-Cassie replied unfazed, “But isn’t this your own doing? Who told me that his weapons were the most advanced in the world?”
Fickel retorted unhappily, “My batch of guns is indeed the most advanced in the world, at least among muzzle-loaders.”
John-Cassie replied helplessly, “Well, even so, that’s not very useful. Who let you come too late? If you had arrived a month earlier, the government would have been wide open to purchasing.
Not anymore, the facts have proven that muzzle-loaders are being phased out. The government won’t risk soldiers’ lives by procuring obsolete equipment.
Why don’t you retrofit these rifles a bit? I’ve checked, and it’s not difficult to convert them into breech-loaders. Although it adds some cost, can’t it all be earned back later?”
Fickel frowned, his dissatisfaction fleeting. Retrofitting was easy to suggest, but this wasn’t Europe; it was the American South, and there weren’t many factories capable of retrofitting rifles.
One of them, incidentally, was John-Cassie’s armory. Although it was called an armory, it had only recently been converted.
Before the division of North and South, it had been a mere mechanical factory. However, John-Cassie was shrewd; as soon as the South declared independence, he ordered equipment from Europe and poached staff from several domestic armories, turning the mechanical factory into an armory.
The makeshift gang couldn’t possibly develop new weapons.
Production capacity also failed to meet John-Cassie’s expectations. Currently, the factory could only produce three cannons, eight hundred rifles, and fifty thousand rounds of ammunition per month.
To fully leverage the production line’s capacity, it would be impossible to achieve without a couple of years’ time.
Clearly, John-Cassie couldn’t wait any longer. Who knew how long this civil war would last, and once it was over, survival would be a tough challenge for the arsenals.
The advent of breech-loading rifles brought a turning point for John-Cassie. Modifying muzzle-loading rifles was undoubtedly much faster than manufacturing new ones.
With his connections in Missouri, there was no problem at all selling the modified old guns to the government at the price of new ones.
However, not just any rifle could be modified; some were easy to convert, while others were not worth the effort.
The tens of thousands of rifles from Fickel were undoubtedly suitable for modification. Their relationship was still good, but in the face of interests, relationships are the least reliable.
John-Cassie’s arsenal equipment was bought from Fickel, and now it was his turn to take Fickel for a ride.
As for whether Fickel would refuse, of course, he wouldn’t. Anyone using their brain could tell that these guns would not sell in the South, and they would not sell in the North either.
You can’t expect Austrian arms dealers to only promote weapons to the Southern Government and not sell arms to the Northern Government, can you?
Breech-loading rifles weren’t some high-tech product; it would only take about a month to copy them once you had a sample. If Austria didn’t sell them, other European countries would.
Besides, the Northern government would also produce its own knockoffs. The United States was now the world’s number one country for counterfeiting; how difficult would it be to copy a rifle?
Without the American market, it would be challenging to sell those tens of thousands of rifles. This also took into account the increased transportation costs; it was better to choose cooperation and make some profit.
“All right, my friend, make me an offer,” Fickel said directly. “As long as the price is right, I’ll sell them to you.”
As a qualified arms dealer who had guessed John-Cassie’s intent, he naturally wouldn’t choose to modify the rifles and get cheated out of his money again.
John-Cassie quoted with a smile, “Twenty-five thousand British pounds.”
Upon hearing this number, Fickel immediately became angry, stood up, and said, “Why don’t you just rob me?”
John-Cassie said reassuringly, “Is there any need to be so surprised, my friend? Let’s talk business; these obsolete weapons are no longer valuable.
Besides modification, you could only sell them to native tribes. How many years do you plan to take to sell all these guns?
Buying these guns for modification comes with risks for me too. The modification will take time, and if the civil war ends suddenly, I’ll be left holding all the stock.
In consideration of our old friendship, I’ll add another three thousand pounds. That’s the highest I can go.”
“You should know that the Southern Government has just signed a huge military order with Austria. They sold two hundred thousand breech-loading rifles to the Southern Government in one go.”
Fickel’s face changed dramatically, as this was undoubtedly bad news. But he quickly regained his composure. Two hundred thousand rifles seemed like a lot, but spread out over the fourteen Confederate states, the average was less than fifteen thousand rifles per state.
This was far from enough to meet everyone’s needs, especially for a state like Missouri on the frontlines—it was but a drop in the bucket.
Muzzle-loading rifles were hard to sell because Americans already had a lot of them. In this nation of gun ownership, if you didn’t have a gun of your own, you would be embarrassed to call yourself an American.
Fickel haggled, “One hundred thousand British pounds—that’s already the lowest price on the international arms market.”
After pondering for a moment, John-Cassie quoted again, “Twenty-nine thousand British pounds, since we’re old friends!”
“Ninety-five thousand British pounds, I can’t go any lower.”
“I’ll add another two thousand pounds, but I can’t go any higher.”
